


One moment at a time

by EloiseWrites



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EloiseWrites/pseuds/EloiseWrites
Summary: I think we'd all like to live a few moments in life with Spencer Reid.. here's a collection of short one-shots that i'm indulging myself in
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 23





	1. After Midnight

The bedroom door creaked open and you could faintly hear the pad of his feet as he tiptoed to the bathroom, trying not to disturb you lying half-asleep on the bed you shared. This was a common occurrence. Spencer often returned from cases late in the evening, well after midnight and into the morning hours. In the early months you’d insist on waiting awake for him, but after falling asleep sat up in bed too many times in a row, you conceded to his protests. Instead, you settled for sleeping restlessly until he came home, and snuggling close when he finally slipped into bed. 

However, tonight, when you felt the familiar dip of the mattress, his long floppy arms and lankly legs remained out of reach. Hearing pages rustle and the curtain to the window above your bed open to let in the faint light of a full moon, you squeaked open an eye and observed Spencer re-opening his well-worn copy of A Brief History of Time. 

“Not sleepy?” you grumbled as you shifted onto your side to face him. 

Glancing down in surprise to find you awake he grimaces, slightly shaking his head. 

“No, not right now. Can’t close my eyes quite yet.”

Reading into his words you shuffle closer, nestling your head near his thigh and draping your arm around his legs, aiming to establish comforting contact while not being overbearing. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into the fabric of his pajamas. 

“I know,” he whispers in response, extending a hand to brush away the hair that had fallen into your face. While his fingers dance along your temple, his head rests back against the wall in exhaustion and defeat. Days like these you could see how his job wore him down mentally, emotionally, and physically. 

Comfortable silence fell between you as his breathing began to slow while his eyes danced across the pages of his book. Rather than talking it out, sometimes returning to laymen’s terms of scientific theory calmed him, reassured him that while the immediate world may be traumatizing and unexplainable, the laws of gravity and spacetime would hold up always. As he read, his hand slipped from your head down to the nape of your neck, playing with the fair hairs that tickled your back before slipping his hand, almost unconsciously under the opening of your shirt. Tracing gentle circles along the bare skin of your back, he continued to flip the pages of his book one-handed, a feat you found impressive. But then again, his hands dwarfed yours in comparison. 

While your first part of the evening had been restless, feeling Spencer’s fingertips brush your skin soothed you. After a few peaceful minutes of memorizing the patterns his cool hands painted along your warm back, you slipped into sleep. 

In the morning the sun peaked early through the windows, unobstructed by the curtain left open from the evening before. Raising your head from the pillow slowly you smiled softly at the sight of Spencer, mouth slightly open with little puffs of breath escaping rhythmically, and his book splayed open across his chest. By the looks of it he hadn’t gotten very far last night before he followed you into sleep. You gently reached over to rescue the entangled book from his splayed hands, and placed it properly folded on the bedside table. He’d thank you when he woke, but for now you replaced the missing object with your own hand. Lying back next to him you took the chance to curl up tighter as you felt his fingers close around yours.

Conversations about his week could wait. Right now, you brushed his bare arm with your free hand, remembering the grounding feeling of his fingers on you last night. Returning the favor, your hand danced lightly across his skin, soothing and tracing figure eights. As your hand lazily made its way up to his neck, you rested against his carotid, feeling the gentle thumping of his pulse. Entranced for a moment by his continual stillness and genuine beauty, you leaned over and pressed your lips where your fingers had just rested, lingering for a moment on his pulse point. There. 

When he woke you knew it'd be another rush out the door, but for now the two of you could just lie in the growing sunlight and feel each other breathe.


	2. Beach Day

A day at the beach had been suggested by Penelope as soon as the team stepped off the plane from their most recent case in rainy, chilly Washington. Seizing the day on a warm weekend, she had gathered up her most precious friends, enough sunscreen to cover a small army, and a well-loved beach chair and marched down to the Virginia coast. 

Spencer had suggested you join the party to a resounding, squealing YES from the tech analyst who loved the chance for some girl time with Spencer’s long-term partner. It had taken some convincing on your part to even push Spencer into joining the beach day. His aversion to seagulls, bacteria and skin cancer were a difficult arsenal to argue against, but with some gentle pleading and a whisper in his ear about a new bikini you’d been dying to wear he relented. 

While Hotch, Rossi, and JJ respectfully declined in order to spend time with family and old scotch, Emily and Morgan joined the motley crew. And thus, with the remainder of the team, the sand castle competition had been born.

Emily refused to dig in the sand and deemed herself the judge immediately, instead reclining on her chair and soaking in the sun. Penelope set off to find shells to adorn her and Morgan’s castle while the man himself put his muscles to work moving around impressive piles of sand. 

You and Reid took a slightly less frantic approach. Carefully planned with water to sand ratios and an earnest conversation about the importance of a moat, you were confident in your team. Spencer did have a PhD in engineering after all… you wondered if Morgan and Penelope forgot about that before they declared that the losing team would buy dinner. 

Despite earlier misgivings, Spencer seemed in his element carefully sculpting towers and stairs, using buckets to stack the sand in a purposefully manner. You wouldn’t admit it, but a couple times you caught yourself just staring at the way his hands brushed through the sand and his eyes were laser focused on the task at hand. Once you were sure that Emily had given you a small smirk after pulling your own focus back to moat-building. 

Glancing back at your boyfriend, you noticed his hair dangled in his eyes. With sandy hands, any of his attempts to smooth it back made his eyes and nose scrunch.

“Wait, Reid,” you called. He looked up at you quizzically as you ran to your beach bag, pulling out a handful of small hairclips. 

“May I?” you asked as you returned to your sandcastle, towering over him as he remained knelt in the sand. After a quick nod and toothy grin, you gathered his hair in a couple of sections, pulling them back and securing them with blue, yellow, and green clips. 

“Tah dah,” you gestured when done as he gave an experimental shake of his head, no curls falling loose. 

“Nice look, pretty boy,” called Morgan, briefly distracted from his task of digging a moat around the lump of sand he and Garcia called a castle. 

“You just wish you had enough hair to pull this off, Morgan” Spencer retorted with a grin.

Emily pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, peeking over to eye his curls held back by a crown of clips. “I think this is the perfect look for our next case Reid. You’d really intimidate the unsubs like this.”

Reid just chuckled at the remarks and stood up to admire his work, brushing his hands to rid of any sand. He reached out as you stood close, wrapping his arm around your waist and you reciprocated with a hand snaking around his bare lower back. 

Emily joined you in your observance of the castle in front of you while Penelope added the final touches of shells to their piece of art. 

“I’m impressed, you two.” She started, “honestly I thought you’d get nothing done the way you kept getting distracted staring at each other,” she said as she circled the castle. You could practically feel Reid blushing beside you. 

“Loving the addition of seaweed as your decoration, it adds some funk to it. Smell included. And that staircase, Reid. Crafty use of dry sand here.” Emily paused for added drama. “As for Morgan and Penelope over here… we’ve got a moat I see. And some undefined lumps of sand.” 

“Yea that’s intentional,” Morgan gestured. “represents a more go-with-the-flow attitude that Baby Girl and I have got going on.” 

Emily gave him a look, “Morgan, I saw you struggling to get the sand out of the bucket. But I appreciate the attempt to save face. Penelope, I do love your artistic embellishments, but I’m sorry babe I’m going to have to give it to the other team,” as she waved a hand in your direction. 

“Yes!” you cheered and gave Spencer a high five, his smile widening at your cute outburst. 

“I guess dinner is on you guys tonight, huh?” Spencer asked cheekily as Penelope and Morgan resigned themselves to their beach chairs next to Emily. 

“Fine, but I’m in the mood for Mexican tonight,” Penelope responded, donning her round, floral sunglasses. 

“Sounds great to me!” you shrugged. Turning your attention towards Spencer, you taunted “Race you to the water?” 

Before he could even respond, you’d taken off towards the wave, not looking back until you could hear his quick but light footsteps chase you down the sand. Splashing into the waves you squealed at the rush of cold water, but barely had the chance to register the coolness of it when you felt yourself being swept up off your feet. Spencer had grabbed you from behind, tucking his hands under your knees and wading deeper into the water carrying you bridal style. 

“Caught you,” he smirked, a happy gleam in his eye. You smiled wide and reached up to adjust one of the clips that had come loose during the run. 

“I like your hair like this”, you said. “You look cute.”

“Pshhh, cute?” Spencer spluttered. 

“Yea, cute” you finalized and squirmed out of his arms to splash into the water, needing to subtly readjust your bikini top. “Now, aren’t you glad we said yes to the beach day?”

Spencer met your eyes and a smile lit up his face for the millionth time that day, “I’m glad to do anything with you.”

How could you ask for anything more?


End file.
